I pull my legs out of the car and close the door, peering at the colossal house bearing in front of me. Wow, this was bigger than I expected, how many people live here exactly?
A strong wind hits my body, slowly turning it into an icicle. And it wasn't like Carrie's clothes were helping either, I thought, as I hugged myself with my bare skinny arms. Another wind pushes past me, and this time my hair is the victim. Whatever, it's not like I give a crap about what people think about me. Carrie directs me to the door and I follow after her.
The doorbell rings for few seconds, and then suddenly a man, about the same age as Carrie, opens it.
"Welcome," he announces in a strong Irish accent, "to Ashdene Ridge. And you must be Margo?"
I rolled my eyes in response. It's not like social workers are any different to care workers. But then I remembered; I have to be an angel if I was going to get anywhere here.
"Yes that's me," I say shaking his hand as I walk inside the house.
I looked around. There was a good open space with crème carpets and egg shell coloured walls. There was different toys scattered around the place, and pictures of the care kids hung up around the walls. God, they tried hard to make it homely.
"Carrie...well it's great to see you...um...again," the man says looking Carrie up and down, "what are you doing here?"
"I am Margo's social worker, remember?" she says as she steps in, leaning a bit too much towards the man's chest. He stares into her emerald eyes for second and her cheeks begin to go slightly crimson.
I guess that explains the dress.
"Sorry," I say breaking tension, "I don't think you have introduced yourself?"
"Oh yes, I'm Mike," the grey haired man says as he puts his arm around my shoulder, "and the head care worker here."
I look up at him for a few seconds. He seemed nice enough, but I feel like it wouldn't take that long to find a fatal flaw. Then it wouldn't take that long for me to get out of this dump.
"And this is May-li," he continues, "the other care worker here. And she will now hopefully show your room?"
I looked up to the stairs where Mike was gesturing his hand. The Chinese woman had long black hair, which tied half up and was holding a basket full of washing. May-li shook her head as she looked back at me.
"I am sorry, Margo unfortunately your room isn't quite ready yet," she says climbing down the stairs to greet me.
"No, seriously, I can sleep on the floor if there is no bed," I respond, cringing at the idea at sharing with someone else. I know that I was meant to be the kind girl right now, but I needed somewhere to escape from the madness; somewhere I can drain my feelings.
"Nope I can't let you do that," May-li says, "it's against safety rules and regulations."
I try hard to keep calm by taking long breathes. I could very easily show her what against safety rules and regulations was.
"But, if Mike's ok with it, you will have to be sleeping on the sofa for one night," the black haired women says.
"Well that's sorted," he replies, shrugging his shoulders, "we are so sor-"
"Oh no it's fine," I interrupt him smiling. "I mean, I know you're busy with stuff,"
"Great then," he says, patting my back.
I am obviously not fine with it. How can I expect them to look after if they can't even get my bed ready in time? How I meant to unpack, and get my laptop set up and...
"Why don't you meet the other young people here," Mike says, disturbing my scramble of thoughts, as he leads Carrie into a room with two computers, a desk and paper scattered everywhere, "I just have to sort out some paper work with Carrie."
I wonder if that's the only thing they will be doing...
I amble into the room on my left hand side, opposite to Mike's office. A group of kids were watching TV on the floor whilst eating popcorn, and when I looked closely a ginger girl had crumbs on face and on the carpet. Hygienic. I look around and see two other girls in the room, a bit older than the ones on the floor, and a boy wearing a knitted jumper. I approached them, trying to get a closer look at what they were doing. One girl, with long straight blonde hair, was standing in front of a canvas, painting it with small brown strokes. The other girl, who had brown hair tied in a French plait was standing behind her, doing her hair in what seemed like bunches.
I tried to get a closer look at the painting when I tripped over something hard and woolly.
"Ow," I say looking at the boy below me, "what are you doing?"
"Looking at this treasure that I found in the bins," he says, still crouched on the floor, "do you want to look at it with me?"
"Um...no thanks" I state, raising my brow, trying to get my attention back to the painting.
"But...are you sure? Everyone loves to look at the rubbish," The boy continued.
"I said no squirt." Oh no I let it out again, but hopefully no-one noticed. The boy frowned at me for a few seconds, before hurrying out of the room. I try to look at what the girls were doing once again. But it was too late, the two of them had already spun around to face me, covering the image.
"Don't mind him," the blonde girl spoke, "he's a bit, well... he's Mo. But you're the new girl, right? I'm Tee," she finishes holding her hand out.
She really doesn't seem my type of girl. I mean, she was wearing a pink top and a floral skirt with black tights. I would die if I was wearing something like that. But I had a strong feeling that outfit was of part of Carrie's clothes selection...
I had two options. Sneer at her and show myself to another room, even trying to trip her up. Or continuing with this good girl act and talk to Tee like I have been friends with her forever. Why can't there have been another option?
"Margo," I say pulling a fake smile and shaking her hand, "so what are you doing?" Still trying to get the attention back to the canvas.
If I had any fatal flaw, which even I have, it would have to art. The way a story can be conveyed into one picture. Every emotion, every tear, every laughter and every scream can be captured in a small abstract image, which could be stared at for hours and hours on end. I would love to do it myself, well if I was any good at it.
"Oh, this thing?" she says gesturing at the image, "it's just for this art competition happening in town. I mean I don't think it's any good but..."
"Are you kidding Tee? It's so good! The judges are going to love it," says the brown haired girl beside her, "I am Carmen by the way."
"Uh huh," I murmur, not really concentrating on what she was saying. I analyse the painting. It was a tree. That was all I saw, no emotion. Just one tree. I mean it was painted OK with pink strikes for the petals and a thin trunk used with watercolours, but there was no back story. It was a painting, but not a painting.
"Is...Is there something wrong with it?" Tee stutters, staring at my face to see any sign of my expression changing.
Something wrong with? There was a bundle of things wrong with. No background, no colour, no emotion, no story. Just a single tree. I mean looking at it now, the pink leaves have no shape, no structure. And come on, pink.
"What's the back story?" I ask, instead of listing the faults.
"What do you mean?" she questions, glancing at Carmen and then back at me. I could tell it was not going to end well.
"What inspired you, like for Van Gogh it was impressionism and for Picasso it was his dad."
"Oh...I just realised there was art competition in town, and entered something so it would look when I do my personal statement for art college."
I roll my eyes. Man this girl needs to get a grip.
"What was that for," Tee says, changing the tone in her voice. "Yeah I guess it's not the best, but I have least got a shot, don't I?"
Shit. I have to save myself, or my plan is literally down the drain.
"I guess it is just not my style," I shrugged, escaping to the door leading to the next room.
"Well, I would love to see your style," she says, raising the volume a little bit, stopping me in my tracks. I turn to see the kids stop being engrossed by the TV but in the drama happened in front of them, "have you even painted before?" she adds folding her arms.
"No, but-"
"But what?" she says cutting me off, "I would like to see you paint that picture and see how you would do!"
Calm breathes...do not lose it...you're only five minutes in...
"Leave it Tee," Carmen says, putting her hand on my shoulder, "she's can have her own opinion."
"Wait your on her side now!" Tee glares at the brown haired girl.
"No, when did they I say that,"
"Well I think it was pretty obvious by what you just said,"
I press head on my two hands, try to control my thoughts to not get involved. I leave the room, as the rest of the care kids wrap themselves in the drama.
Authors Note:
So finally Margo has joined TDG! And seems like she hasn't made the best of starts. But that might all change...
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Love
K